just having fun with this now
First off, Ad Hominem attacks aren't productive.
Secondly, where is the pronouns in "See aforementioned example of how much that could hurt a transgender person. Any default gender hurts transgender people, period."?
Thirdly do you actually want a block of text without gendered pronouns? Here you go:
Samus morphed into a sphere and rolled up to Alex. The former discussed politics with the latter. Alex then went downstairs after a heated debate about the Galactic Federation. The aforementioned then grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter, and went back up stairs. Samus looked up at Alex, and the former gasped at the latter. Samus shot a hail of beams, but the aforementioned's beams failed to connect with the target. Alex swung at Samus, but the latter dodged and finally took a shot at the former. This killed the aforementioned, and a victory was granted to Samus.
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by Lorina (one of two sisters Alice had) on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice Alice had peeped into the book Lorina was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?”
Alice's mind considered (as well as it could, for the hot day made the mind feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by the aforementioned.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” (when that was thought over afterwards, it occurred to Alice that it should've been thought about, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice got up, for it flashed across the aforesaid's mind that there had never been a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, Alice ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
[...]
Alice was not a bit hurt and jumped up in a moment looking up, but it was all dark overhead and in front was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!” Alice was close behind it when the former turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: Alice was in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.
There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, the aforesaid walked sadly down the middle, wondering if it was possible to get out again.
Suddenly our protagonist came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass: there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that this might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, our protagonist came upon a low curtain that had not been noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: Alice tried the little golden key in the lock, and to the aforesaid's great delight it fitted!
Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: our protagonist knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How the aforesaid longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but Alice's head could not get though the doorway; “and even if my head would go through,” thought poor Alice, “it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.” For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so the aforementioned went back to the table, half hoping that there would be another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time Alice found a little bottle on it (“which certainly was not here before,” said Alice), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words “DRINK ME” beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say “Drink me,” but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. “No, I’ll look first,” our protagonist said, “and see whether it’s marked ‘poison’ or not”; for the aforesaid had read several nice little stories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that, if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and Alice had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked “poison,” so Alice ventured to taste it, and, finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), and very soon finished it off.
"What a curious feeling!” said Alice. “I must be shutting up like a telescope!”
And so it was indeed: now only ten inches high, and with a face that brightened up at the thought that it was now the right size for going though the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, Alice waited for a few minutes to see if the aforesaid's body was going to shrink any further: our protagonist felt a little nervous about this; “for it might end, you know,” said Alice to no one but the air, “in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?” And thus tried to fancy what the flame of a candle looks like after the candle is blown out, for it could not be remembered by Alice to have ever having seen such a thing.
After a while, finding that nothing more happened, the aforementioned decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when our protagonist got to the door, it was found that the little golden key had been forgotten, and when Alice went back to the table for it, the aforementioned's arm could not possibly reach it: Alice could see it quite plainly through the glass, and thus tried hard to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when Alice got tired out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.
“Come, there’s no use in crying like that!” said Alice's mind to Alice rather sharply. “I advise you to leave off this minute!” Alice's mind generally gave Alice very good advice (though Alice very seldom followed it), and sometimes Alice's mind scolded Alice so severely as to bring tears into Alice's eyes; and remembered trying to box Alice's ears for having cheated Alice's mind in a game of croquet Alice was playing against Alice's mind, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. “But it’s no use now,” thought poor Alice, “to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!”
Soon Alice's eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: the aforesaid opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words “EAT ME” were beautifully marked in currants. “Well, I’ll eat it,” said Alice, “and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door: so either way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!”
Alice ate a little bit, and Alice's mind said to the aforesaid “Which way? Which way?”, holding a hand on the top of the aforesaid's head to feel which way it was growing; and was quite surprised to find that it remained the same size. To be sure, this is what generally happens when one eats cake; but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
So Alice set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.
